tsunem-dilem

[tsunem-dilem]

A Spark Worth Treasuring

For: Enstars Summer Selfship Week (Day 1: Beach & Pool)

In which a late night beach walk makes a certain snake reflect on positive change, and his heart realizes something worth cherishing...

Pairing: Tsunemi Hirano/Ibara Saegusa

Word Count: 2193

A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first piece for this week! I personally decided to write for this whole event, since I don't trust myself to draw fast enough. So... expect scenes between my beloved Enstars sona and her many, many F/Os! This first one is slightly inspired by one of Ibara's summer voice lines, and I want more vulnerable, squishy Ibara. So here we are! I hope you all enjoy it!

Event Ping: @enstars-selfship-season

Writing below the cut!

"Sparklers?" Ibara seemed a bit confused at Tsunemi's request. She nodded quickly as she held up the box, the sticks inside rattling around.

"Yeah! I mean, we're out here, just walking all quiet side by side!" She huffed a little. "Why not light it up a little with something? It's all dark... Isn't summer supposed to be a bright, sunny season? So let's do something nice, something to send off the day before we go back to the hotel!"

Ibara never seemed to understand Tsunemi and her penchant for the sudden. Sparklers, now? He was confused. Was this some sort of plot, a hidden tactic to get him to do or say something? Perhaps there was something she wanted him to say or do, and this was some sort of subtle manipulation of him and the situation, or maybe this was some sort of test? Was she testing him right now, for some strange reason? What significance did sparklers have right now? He knew that she loved the simple joys of life; Free samples of ice cream at the parlor they went to made her eyes light up like jewels, seeing a hermit crab scuttle across the beach made her chase after it like a child, and seeing distant fireworks across the water made her grin back at him, as if to ask if they could do it too.

Tsunemi was innocent. In an industry full of self-serving, scheming people, she was something like an angel, simple and bright like the summer sun, doing her best to help and spread hope to Ensemble Square. He never understood her, could never seem to probe her mind for any other reasons why someone so good would ever associate with someone like him. He was the farthest thing from pure and good and light, a creature far from heaven, slithering in the dark where he belonged. He had long surrendered himself to playing everyone’s villain, gaining and losing, climbing the ranks to become COSPRO’s Deputy Director… he was used to the song and dance both on and off stage, sucking up, chewing and spitting out whoever he had to.

Compared to him, Tsunemi had never even stepped out onto that dance floor. She joined what he would call a ragtag group in a different agency far away from him after her departure as a COSPRO producer, and seemed to shine brighter than ever before. Of course, being a novice idol had its difficulties, but her warmth and genuine desire to do good set her apart from everyone else.

And when they finally reunited once again, with the two of them shining on the stage as idols instead of superior and subordinate… Ibara was blinded.

Blinded by her light, by her smile, by the sun rays beginning to warm his body, his hands, his heart.

He had so much he wanted to tell her. They had always been close, or at least, quite close professionally, and before Tsunemi left his side as his coworker, she told him about her own dreams. All he could do was watch as she spoke, completely caught off guard by her sudden seriousness, watch her mouth gently move as she rambled on and on about how… unfulfilled she felt as just a producer on the sidelines. She wanted to deliver light straight to the people on stage, just like her own hero did.

He didn’t know it yet, but that night in the office, he wanted her to never leave his side.

Ibara could never understand Tsunemi. He couldn’t understand why she would want to leave in the first place when she excelled as a producer right where she was, with him.

He could never understand the feelings that welled up inside him, angry and bitter, when she held true to her word and left the job the next day. He thought that was the end for them, that he would never see her again. He was fine with that, he thought, he let the chance slip through his fingers. The poison he had seeped into her heart didn’t take effect fast enough, and so this time, he let his prey go, the bitter taste of his own poison in his mouth.

And he never understood why Tsunemi came back to his side. Got closer, closer, close enough to burn him. Maybe she cared too much, maybe she noticed something she didn’t, but being around him came naturally to her. He wasn’t exactly against Tsunemi’s presence, no, a part of him had her exactly where he wanted her, but on a rather nondescript day, she had told him something, something that made him freeze.

“I want to understand you. Because no one really seems to.”

He didn’t think there was much to understand about him. He put himself and his intentions on clear display, so he didn’t quite know what she meant. He was a self-serving workaholic with quite the sharp tongue with the instincts of a soldier, nothing else beyond that. He didn’t understand what else there was to him, perfectly content within the walls he had built up around his own heart.

But those walls crumbled bit by bit as she got closer and closer. At some point, she had asked about things he liked to do, and he had actually responded with a genuine answer. Not one about work, or information, but a genuine hobby. She had said that she never expected him to be into something as… niche as rock climbing, but Ibara had begun going on a tangent about how it was good for the occupation he was in, stuff about core and arm strength helping with dancing…

He didn’t notice how long he was talking for until the sweetest laugh left Tsunemi’s lips.

He was softening up, he knew it, Tsunemi melting away his walls so easily like ice on a hot day. He had revealed more and more of those cards he held close to his chest like it was second nature to her. Before he knew it, he was absolutely defenseless in the wake of her light, a parody of himself.

He didn’t understand how it all happened so fast. And now here they were, on a beach illuminated by nothing but the moon and stars.

He sighed, shaking his head. “I can never understand you, my lady.” His voice came out softer than he’d like, a side effect of being near her, which he disliked very much.

“Really? I’d like to think I’m kinda easy to read…” She tilted her head at him, and he mirrored her subconsciously. “I don’t really have a lot of deep reasons you all seem to have for doing things. It’s okay to just do things because you want to, or because it’d make someone happy, y’know?”

“Make someone happy?” He stopped in his tracks, the waves lapping at his feet as Tsunemi took a few steps ahead. “That’s a… very specific reason.”

“Is it? That’s why I wanted to do the sparklers.” Tsunemi turned around to face him, still holding the box like a prized treasure. “You seemed a little down in the dumps, Ibara, so I thought it’d make you feel a little better.”

Was it really that obvious? His hand went to his face, feeling the warmth of his cheek as he got a little embarrassed. He didn’t even feel his brows furrowing, the scowl on his face, and as that contemplative expression turned into a shocked one at it all, he looked up at her.

Her face was lit up by the moon, a gentle look on her face. Their eyes met, and Ibara felt himself shrink back at how soft Tsunemi looked at that moment. She looked as if she was expecting something, but also expecting nothing at all from him. The way she looked at him, with so much love… it always shook him up much more than he liked. He saw her face soften a little more as she pulled out a sparkler from the box, handing it to him.

“Here.” A small request from her.

His hand shook as he reached out, stepping up a little bit to take the thin stick from her hand. He was careful not to accidentally touch her hand (in hopes that his heart would stop racing so hard and loud in his chest, he hated that most of all), as if she wasn’t real, as if she’d disappear if he made contact.

As he held the sparkler, he continued to stare at her, and she giggled.

“You look a little lost.”

“Well, you were the one who made me take it, my lady! I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it—”

“It’s a sparkler, Ibara.” She said, as if that made it any clearer. She swiped the small stick on the side of the box, and in an instant, the end turned into golden shimmers that faintly lit up the sand below. She held it up happily, watching the sparks for a moment before touching the end of her sparkler to his, lighting his up too.

He stared at the stick for a much longer moment, watching the sparks fly off and vanish as quickly as he could blink. The light bounced off his glasses, and his eyes widened as he leaned in closer, watching the stick fizzle and pop. How quaint, he thought, something as thin and brittle as this could let off even the faintest of lights. A marvel of invention, perhaps something like this could be something he invested in—

A distant laugh rang out from down the beach, the sound of water splashing breaking Ibara from his thoughts of work. Tsunemi was racing down the beach, sparkler in hand, watching the little light trail behind her against the darkness of the night. She traced shapes and lines around her, giddily holding it up to the sky in triumph like a magic wand, the smile on her face the brightest thing of all.

She was so childish, he thought, something like this brought her this much joy? He broke out into something like a jog to try and catch up with her, trying his best to watch his own sparkler as the sparks flew off into nothingness. He tried to clumsily copy her, tracing out circles and trying to spell his own name, and he heard another laugh from Tsunemi.

“See, isn’t it nice? They’re so small, and don’t give off much light, but they’re fun to play with!” She pointed her sparkler at him. “Woosh! A magic spell to make you smile!”

A few sparks did fly his way, and he jumped back, letting out a soft sigh at the absurdity of it all. “...I really don’t get you.”

“But it made you smile! See, you’re smiling!”

Ibara cleared his throat, looking away as he definitely did feel the corners of his mouth turn up at Tsunemi’s ‘spell’. He couldn’t help it, her own smile was infectious.

“...A-And if I am?”

“Well, my plan worked! So come on, stop thinking so hard about whatever’s going on in that head of yours,” She stepped up to him again, poked him in the forehead, and handed him another sparkler just as both their own fizzled out. “and smile with me!”

It was less of a request and more of a command to his heart. It beat once, twice, hard against his ribcage, and he felt his shoulders loosen as he struck his sparkler against the box faster than she could, snatching it from her. If that’s all she wanted to ask of him at this moment, then he would listen. If all she wanted was for him to smile and let go of his worries, then… he could do that, for her.

Tsunemi gasped as he ran off, feet sinking into the sand. He let out a laugh that echoed into the night wind, blowing his hair behind him. “If you want to light another one, you’ll have to catch me, Lady Hirano!”

“H-Hey, wait, that’s not fair, those are mine!” Tsunemi gave chase to him, letting out a laugh of her own. “Come back! Ibara!”

The sound of her worried voice behind him made him laugh again. He ran as fast as he could, feeling the wind on his face, sparks of light trailing behind him.

He could never seem to understand his dear lady, or her childishness, or any of her deeper reasons for doing anything at all. But perhaps he didn’t need to. The way she made him naturally brighter, made his heart feel light, almost weightless against the gravity of everything around him… The way she made him smile and go off running like a child again…

He didn’t need to understand to know that he found something to treasure. He didn’t need to understand to know that she was genuine, that the woman behind him was truly the spark he needed to light up his dark days.

And as he looked back at her and smiled, not a smile of schemes and planning, but one of innocent joy, Tsunemi smiled too.

And Ibara’s heart lightened.

[tsunem-dilem]

☀️ SUMMER THEMED DIVIDERS ☀️

by purefantasia credit not required but appreciated 💛

[tsunem-dilem]

Selfship Summer Week 2025 is Starting Soon!

We hope you like these prompts!

For nonsharers, we have permission to use the same tagging system as @/enstars-selfship-event. Please take a look at their blog!

Under the cut, we've reposted the same announcement, "Regarding Recent Events - Please Read!", as our pinned. If you've already read the text wall feel free to skip it!

Regarding recent events - please read!

As a team of yumes and fictos that include persons of colour, we want Enstars Selfship Summer week to be a welcoming and supportive space for all. 

We are aware of incidents of problematic behaviour, publicly and on anon, in the enstars yume community beginning in early 2025. These include repeated incidents on multiple platforms since before then.

Prior and during our event, any user (referring not just to individual blogs, but creators and the muses/inserts owned) found to have broken the terms of participation stated above at any point in time, will banned from participation without prior notice. The same will apply to those who have participated in: 

Harassment: We define harassment as derogatory or hateful remarks directed towards another user, publicly or on anon, regardless of the cause, intention or mental acquity of the perpetrator. This includes identity-based discrimination.

Inducing Public Distress: We define public distress as negative content that induces emotional distress in community members, especially content related to mental health. Such content is improperly cut or tagged with warnings to prevent it from being shown in general tags (eg. #ensemble-stars), or repeated within a short-term basis.

A ban is signified by a block on the event's official account, @enstars-selfship-season, aka. this blog. If you think this is a mistake, please send an appeal through a direct message to @honestoutpostwarden. If one of our mods does not engage you, your appeal is regretfully unsuccessful. 

Please note that other users may not participate on the behalf of blocked blogs. @honestoutpostwarden is a blank account that has not blocked any blogs. Do not try to block evade @enstars-selfship-season or appeal on behalf of your friends, whether on or off anon. Any messages with this intention will not be entertained!

Thank you for reading! Sorry if I worried you with the length and the seriousness of this, things have just been crazy lately. If you have not been blocked by this blog on any blog you own, you are safe here :3 Hope to see your ship on our feed! ~ Mod Serpent

[tsunem-dilem]

hi! i very much returned and i come with a request. i. i would looove to see! a rivals to lovers sebek x reader thing from you!! one where they start off on the wrong foot, clash often, maybe even spar/swordfight (and maybe maybe, even other people teasing them about liking each other when they *clearly don't!*) and then oopsies, one of them starts to fall for the other... whether that's one-sided pining or mutual like with denial is up to you! idk i just. i love that trope. and i would love to see your take on something like this since you haven't written something like this before i think! maybe!

thank you in advance! :D

pairing: Sebek Zigvolt x Reader

tags : rivals to lover, mutual pining - denial, slow burn like glacial, emotional repression olympics, lyrical writing

a/n🍨: hallooo~ thank you so much for requesting🩷 i too love this trope! this one took me a while because im practicing my english and prose here by using classic literature as always for my writing style 🍎 was planning to make it into headcanon style but nah we need more Sebek written in this pov~ I hope you enjoyed this and thank you so much for reading my writing 🩵

To say that you and Sebek Zigvolt met under civil circumstances would be a falsehood so severe it could rupture the very stonework of Diasomnia’s northern battlements. No, you met in the manner of colliding storm fronts—loud, electric, and with an immediate declaration of war.

He had the gall—the bold, sun-blessed gall—to correct your grip before the match began, his voice a staccato of knightly contempt. “Your wrist lacks tension.” he had intoned, as though offering divine edict rather than unsolicited critique.

You responded the only way one should when their pride is called into question by a man whose hair defies gravity and whose decibel level could awaken the dead: With a smile sharp as a letter opener and the promise of utter ruin.

The duel was close. Too close. You won (technically). Emotionally, he declared victory by virtue of ‘allowing you an opening out of charitable disdain.’ You haven’t stopped reminding him since.

Though there was something in that first clash. The spark of metal? Yes. But something else too—an irritant that settled in the bloodstream and curdled into fascination.

You spar with Sebek far too often—egregiously, obscenely often. To the point that even Silver, slumped against a tree like a man who’s seen too much, once muttered through the velvety fog of exhaustion, “Do they think swordplay is foreplay?”

You both ignored him, of course paired with the practiced dignity of people who absolutely did not hear that. Both flushed with the kind of synchronized, thermonuclear embarrassment that would’ve triggered an evacuation drill at NRC, had anyone been paying attention. So you turned away like you were being pulled by magnetic shame. Sebek blushed in reverse—spine straighter, jaw tighter, voice louder, as if yelling could exorcise feelings.

He treats every duel like a divine inquisition—each swing of his blade a holy rebuke against your entire existence.

You, on the other hand, approach it like it’s the world’s most dramatic coping mechanism—why go to therapy when you can just emotionally bleed on a training field with swords and unresolved tension?

When your weapons clash in melodies only the repressed could compose. His hands, traitorous things, are always too gentle when shoving you back, like he’s afraid of bruising your pride more than your ribs. Yours, equally disloyal, linger a beat too long when helping him up, fingers brushing like they have their own subplot.

You fall? He catches you—with far too much concern for a man who calls you “insufferable wretch” between bouts.

He trips? You grab his arm and haul him upright with an intimacy that suggests a montage is about to start.

No one says anything about these moments.

Except everyone.

Constantly.

Lilia has popcorn. Silver has resigned himself to the background commentary role. Malleus has offered, twice now, to officiate “the inevitable marriage.” You’re not sure if he’s joking. You’re also not sure if you are.

Sebek’s inner monologue reads like a knight’s diary slowly succumbing to madness:

“They are reckless, chaotic, dazzlingly unorthodox. I loathe their insolence. I disdain their grin. Their hair is always in their eyes—do they not own a comb? Their footwork is distractingly elegant. I wish to see them humbled. I wish to see them succeed. I wish—no. I do not wish. I strategize.”

He often storms away from sparring matches and then broods by a window, narrating his internal agony in Elizabethan sonnet form.

You, on the other hand, are no better:

He’s the worst. He’s insufferable. He talks like he swallowed a thesaurus on fire. But when he blocks a strike meant for me, I feel—warm? No. That’s just combat fever. Not affection. Definitely not affection. He looked at me yesterday. For too long. I should punch a wall. Maybe two.

You wake up thinking of him—grumpy, green, and gallant, like your subconscious is hosting a crush-themed renaissance fair.

He trains harder because of you. He says it’s “to surpass a worthy rival,” but everyone knows that’s code for “I can’t stop thinking about their stupid face and I hate it here.”

Both of you pretend you don’t care.

Both of you care enough to write tragic ballads in the corners of your notebooks and then aggressively deny their existence when caught. His rhyme scheme is suspiciously good. Yours ends with “sword” forced to rhyme with “feelings I’ve ignored.”

Denial has never been this poetic.

The mission goes sideways, as missions often do when fate decides your emotional development needs a nudge. Blades clash. Smoke billows. Someone yells something unhelpful.

Sebek takes the hit.

A clean, heroic slash across his arm—not fatal, but dramatic enough to cue a slow-motion gasp. Blood blooms. So does your panic.

You sprint to him like a protagonist in a poorly-budgeted romance drama. “Sebek!” you shout, voice wobbling, heart lurching. “Why didn’t you dodge, you idiot?!”

You slapped a bandage on him like it's an insult and pressing too hard. Plus, also shaking and typical pretending it’s from battle adrenaline and not the mind-numbing fear that your favorite loudmouth knight might actually perish before you resolve whatever this... thing is between you.

Sebek (bless him), looks up at you with the hazy, noble daze of a man who thinks he’s about to be sainted.

“Because you were behind me...” he says, with the unwavering sincerity of someone who would die proudly and dramatically on your behalf and then lecture you about safety as a ghost.

The silence that follows is biblical. Not holy. Just really, really awkward.

You stare at him.

He stares back.

Somewhere in the background, Silver audibly sighs.

There is, undeniably, the atmosphere of a kiss. The entire battlefield feels it. Even the enemy pauses like, “Are they gonna—?”

But no.

Instead, Sebek winces like a main protagonist suppressing emotion and grunts, “Tactical body shielding is part of knightly protocol.” like that explains anything.

“I swear to the Seven if you say ‘duty’ one more time—” you nearly lose your mind on the spot.

He tries. He tries to say it again.

You hit him with the bandage roll again.

You both survive, tragically, still not dating.

Lilia has a blackboard with your name and Sebek’s written on it. Every day, he adds a new tally mark under “Still Not Kissing.” There are currently fifty-seven.

Silver has stopped trying to intervene. He just carries around tea for people who’ve witnessed your latest emotionally-loaded sparring match.

Malleus, who knows everything and nothing, once mused aloud: “Isn’t it remarkable how well they complement each other’s temperament? Like thunder and wildfire.”

You and Sebek: “WE’RE NOT COMPLEMENTING ANYTHING.”

It happens, as all catastrophes of the heart must, in the training yard—where moonlight bleeds like silver wine across the flagstones, and your breath comes short not from fatigue, but from something far more ruinous: possibility.

Sebek gleams—glows, really—with the sheen of noble exertion and catastrophic restraint, the kind that only men who scream about “honor” at 6 a.m. can manage. His hair is a mess. His tunic clings in ways your brain, traitorous organ that it is, files under archival memory: do not delete.

A misstep—perhaps yours, perhaps the gods’—and suddenly gravity conspires to write fanfiction.

Your faces are intolerably close—shared air close, bad decisions are whispering close. His breath ghosts across your cheek like an unfinished line of poetry. Both are no longer sparring. Both are performing the prelude to a scandal.

His hand finds your waist, firm and immediate, like he was born to catch you.

Your fingers, in a poetic act of betrayal, fist in the collar of his tunic as though you’re anchoring yourself to the last shred of common sense you possess. (Spoiler: you are not.)

Your lips part.

He says—blessedly hoarse, devastatingly sincere— “You’ve improved.”

“So have you.” you replied while blinking like someone who just got emotionally stabbed.

It is not flirting. It is courtship by blade. It is foreplay by tragedy. Your noses nearly touch. Your eyelashes brush.

This is it.

You are going to kiss him.

You are going to ruin everything gloriously.

And then—snap.

A branch. A singular, petty piece of wood.

Both your heads whip around.

Lilia hangs upside down from a tree like a particularly smug gargoyle, idly eating a pear with all the nonchalance of someone watching a telenovela.

“Fascinating,” he murmurs around a bite. “I was wondering which of you would cave first.”

Both of you did not scream.

Did not kiss.

Swiftly, you launch backward like startled cats, scramble away from each other as though struck by lightning and shame in equal measure. Fleeing the scene in opposite directions with the velocity of people running from emotional growth.

You do not speak for two days.

Not out of anger—oh no. Out of terror. The what if of it all haunts you both like a melodramatic ghost with excellent timing.

Sebek trains louder.

You train longer.

Silver watches it unfold like a war documentary. Lilia starts sending fruit daily, each pear labeled with unhelpful advice like “Try again, cowards.”

You remain professionally repressed.

But your eyelashes remember.

You are still not together.

You are still sparring, still arguing with the vehemence of two people who have never touched but think about it constantly. You parry his blows like you're trying to teach him tenderness through violence. He retorts with all the intensity of someone who knows if he loves you, he will ruin it by saying it aloud.

The space between your hands is shorter now.

Tragic, really—how your knuckles brush when you pass swords. How his breath hits your neck when he corrects your stance and you pretend not to shiver like some Victorian ghost-wife locked in a duel with decorum.

The insults have changed. Softer.

"You're reckless." he says, voice like a prayer that fears being answered.

"And you're insufferable." you whisper, like it's the most beautiful thing you've ever meant.

Sebek dreams of your grin and wakes up shouting into the forest, as if the trees might scrub it from his memory. They don’t. They never do.

You draw his face in the margins of your notes—again, and again, and again. "It’s anatomical," you claim. As if your hand hasn't memorized the shape of his jaw better than your own name.

The dorm holds its breath every time you're in the same room. It's become a sport. They're all tired. Someone bought confetti. It's in a drawer. Waiting.

And still—no kiss.

But the wind knows.

The swords know.

The gods know.

Your bones know.

It will not be planned, nor even permitted by either of your better natures—those poor, trembling things that have, until now, kept the floodgates intact with little more than denial and discipline. No. It will unfold with the slow horror of prophecy fulfilled, of stars finally drawing their long-promised alignment.

A duel, yes. Like so many before it. Steel ringing against steel, breath stolen from lungs already too full of unsaid things. The tension between you drawn tighter than a bowstring, vibrating with something ancient—something not born of rivalry, but of recognition.

So the blades lock and breath tangles, as the sky seems to hold itself mid-inhale— there will be a falter.

A slip, a stumble, some divine error in footwork, but it is not a mistake—it is the hand of the inevitable pressed gently to the small of your back. Thus when collision comes, it does not arrive as chaos, but as revelation.

Lips meet.

Not in hunger, nor haste, but in that stunned hush reserved for relics.

As if the moment itself had been sculpted, chiseled from marble and myth, ordained by hands that do not tremble. There is no hesitation, no softening of impact—only the terrible, tender exactness of contact that has been fated since first clash, since first glance, since the first cruelly barbed exchange beneath the training yard’s bruised light.

It is a kiss that unmakes. A kiss that knows.

But when it ends—when the breath returns and the sky resumes its spinning—you will part as though something sacred has been shattered between you. Not broken. No. Merely… too magnificent to remain in mortal hands.

Hands still clutch at tunics as if to steady the world.

When denial arrives with all the conviction of habit, but none of its former strength. Words fall between you like dulled blades, unable to wound now that truth has been glimpsed and briefly held.

Whatever existed before—the brittle pride, the righteous fury—no longer fits the shape of this new silence. Something has shifted. Not loudly, not visibly. Just enough to tip the axis of the world.

Sebek does not meet your gaze. Not out of shame, but reverence, like one who fears the sun might vanish if stared at too long. The moment lingers, impossible to dismiss. Beneath the scent of metal and sweat, something gentler has begun to bloom.

Not surrender—something far rarer. Recognition. And though the duel may resume, though steel may rise again, the air around you no longer belongs to war. It belongs to what comes after.

[tsunem-dilem]

OK I have a hard time telling who does and doesn’t like it so reblog this if you’re a selfshipper who is ok with getting anonymous f/o messages, notes, letters, greetings, etc in your inbox

(and to anyone who likes writing them, you can use this post to find people who enjoy accepting them)

[tsunem-dilem]

already said on main (maoisarap) but wanted to make an account, especially for it, too, for just in case reasons! (this was meant to be my imagines account, but never mind. pfft~ all copy & pasted from my main account, by the way. just in a different order!)

(#) Enstars Selfship Week 2025

Day 1 | Uniform Steals! – you steal your enstars f/o('s) outfit! can be the ordinary unit outfit, the es idol outfit, an exclusive outfit, or even the series (on globalstars) or anniversary outfits, as long as your guy(s/girlie) owns it, you take it! or~ you can do vice versa: have your f/o steal YOUR outfit!

Day 2 | Shine on the Stage! – doesn't matter if you're a producer or just an ordinary person around ensemble square, you're being invited onto the stage with your enstars f/o's to sing! or~ if not a stage, then you're singing with your f/o's in the dorms common area with whoever you like to be in the crowd!

Day 3 | Tour Day! – this one is a bit~ of a wild card. what are you and your f/o's like when going on tour for their or your song lives/"concerts" either around the country or across the globe? are you exploring new foods? tirelessly getting ready for a live? perhaps you're both/all trying to figure out what it's like to be in a tour bus for a certain amount of days, how small or big is the bus and who gets which bunk of the bunk beds?

Day 4 | Dorm Situations! – what is life like in the dorms for you both/all? are you chaotic and loud? or quiet and peaceful? has something gone wrong in the dorms and it's upto you two/lot to fix it? let's find out!

Day 5 | 「Focus!」 | it's photoshoot time! are you taking it in the usual room where these photos are taken, or are you out and about with your f/o's having it all done? what outfits are either of you wearing? or are you or your f/o's the one taking the photos~! and is there a reason behind the photos, or is it just the usual idol work business?

Day 6 | BREAKTHROUGH! | it's time for a break away from ensemble square, and you're both/all taking a day or few off from work and getting away from the area for a while. where are you going? home? to a park? anywhere! show what life is like outside of the idol/producer and etcetera area!

Day 7 | Nui Noon! – what if in ensemble square, there's a shop in the town area where you can go and request the people who own the shop to make nuis/teddies of anyone you like, and you and your f/o's go in there to ask for a nui of each other/all one another to each of your fittings? make it as silly or as adorable as you like~

note: you don't need to keep these titles, they're more so a reminder for myself as i have bad memory. hehe~

you're allowed to make:

edits!

fanart!

fanfics/oneshots/drabbles!

headcanons!

moodboards & stimboards!

collages (like the sticker-y ones)!

ETCETERA! make what you want and what you're happy in making! go wild with your creativity!

simply yap about these ideas!

this is for ~all~ people!

rules:

– the dates are from the 15th of june to the 22nd of june! (yes, upto subaru's birthday because he is the literal face of this franchise.)

- this is for ~all~ versions of selfshipping! selfship. yumeship. if you're a ficto/riako. oc×canon. kinning & canon too! the only canon×canon allowed are polyam people or if it's family/platonic/qpp! if you're strictly canon×canon enjoyer, you're allowed to spread the word but you can't join in as this is for us selfshippers and co. who need it right now~ no hate, we're just going through things!

– please don't stress yourselves with any of these ideas if you are struggling. you're allowed to skip a day and come back to the said day you're struggling with at any time.

– if you feel as though you can't follow the days that the week is set in, then take your time!! your health matters more!

– no sending negativity towards other selfshippers and co. in this! we support each other no matter the creation we come up with and who we ship with! (please, support more than just fanart. i mean it...) if you're a double, then block and ignore the others!

– you can make these for yourself and/or for other enstarries you know who selfship and co.!

– JUST HAVE FUN, YOU DUMDUMS!! (i love you. you are not a dummy. <3)

note: tag either this account and/or my main so i can reblog it to here! i want to give love to everyone for this! <3

do not interact:

proshippers/comshippers/etcetera on who enjoys illegalities (incest / adult x child / etcetera.) you make me uncomfortable, so i ask you kindly to step away from here and my stuff! thank you~

[tsunem-dilem]

just imagine your f/o playing basketball, points at you and says ''this one’s for you baby'' and completely misses

[tsunem-dilem]

just seeing a man pisses me off sometimes like can’t i get a break from you.

[tsunem-dilem]

whatever. go my sebeko.

[tsunem-dilem]

new phantom siita song on the 9th... i keep listening to the snippet on loop i'm gonna go CRAZY

[tsunem-dilem]

🌈 294 Selfship Questions & Prompts

go through a rainbow of emojis, with questions all about you and your F/O!

feel free to make a copy of the doc and answer as many questions as you'd like, and tag me with your answers!

examples of some of the questions below the cut!

RED

🎈 - You come across someone making balloon animals. What animal would you get for your F/O? What animal would your F/O get for you? 🧨 - Who’s more explosive or destructive? Why? 🧧 - A birthday or anniversary is coming up, and you’re looking at cards in your local store. What card would you get your F/O? What card would your F/O get for you? 🎢 - What would you and your F/O’s favorite rides be at an amusement park? 🎪 - What roles would you and your F/O have in a circus?

GREEN

🎄 - What holidays do you and your F/O celebrate? How do you celebrate them? 🧶 - Do you or your F/O have any hobbies involving yarn, like knitting, crocheting, or weaving? 🧩 - How good are you at puzzles? How good is your F/O? How well do you work together? 🔋 - How energetic are you? How energetic is your F/O? 🔫 - Water fight! Do you use water guns? Water balloons? A hose? How soaked do you get? Is there a decided winner, or are you doing it just for the fun of it? 🥗 - Are you or your F/O vegan or vegetarian?  🥫 - Who would survive longer in an apocalypse? What’s their strategy? 🧃 - Who’s more childish? In what way?

PINK

🎀 - Do you consider you or your F/O to be particularly cute? In what way? 🩰 - Do you or your F/O do any sort of dancing? How often do you dance together? 🍣 - You and your F/O go out for sushi. What kinds do you get? 🧁 - How often do you and your F/O go out for treats?  🍧 - What are your and your F/O’s favorite flavors of snowcone? 🌸 - Who’s more gentle? 🌺 - How are your and your F/O’s energy levels throughout the day? How much do they fluctuate? Is one of you often tired while the other is energetic?

[tsunem-dilem]

Tsuneko Yuukimi

[Ramshackle Dorm]

"Either you're gonna help me get back to where I actually belong, or you're gonna shut up and stay outta my way."

The newly assigned Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. A gutsy and brash freshman who, while not originally of this world, seems to want to solve problems in their own... forward way.

Actual profile below the cut:

Gender: Demigirl

Pronouns: They/Them

Grade/Class: Freshman/Class A (No. 26)

Birthday: April 18 (Aries)

Age: 16

Height: 165cm (5'5")

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: Not of Twisted Wonderland

Club: Track and Field Club

Best Subject: Alchemy

Hobbies: Cooking

Pet Peeves: Solving other's problems, annoying people

Favorite Food: Beef jerky

Least Favorite Food: Oranges

Talent: Hand to hand combat

Relationships (very bare bones since I just finished Book 1 recently):

Adeuce: Friends! Bonded over the Book 1 Incident, the level-headed (sort of) reasonable (debatable) one in the trio + Grim. Wants to knock some sense into Ace so bad, but is close to both of them. Probably prefers Deuce though. Delinquent solidarity. Sebek: Rivals turned one-sided puppy love. Tsuneko seemingly wins the IDGAF war between then, but Sebek is down bad in his own... grumpy way, I think. If he can learn to chill out and be reasonable, then maybe there's a chance that Tsuneko could see him as something more... Maybe.

(Bonus of them for reading this far! They're so annoying I love them...)

[tsunem-dilem]

— valentine’s day dividers (candy heart edition)

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

[tsunem-dilem]

◦˚~ BUNCH OF LIGHT GREY/WHITE DIVIDERS by enchanthings ~˚◦

white dividers:

Requested by: anonymous Info: these were all made & edited by me. please reblog/like if using!

[tsunem-dilem]

ShawtyPOP! as that old mugshot meme cause it was too perfect for them

[tsunem-dilem]

what if i crode.

I love you unendingly, Songbird. I hope you know I want to marry you one day, my love.

[tsunem-dilem]

"I don't deserve someone like you." x "You deserve everything you've ever wanted."